He sat down, and with her hand in his proceeded to describe the houses to her, when a waiter threw open the door--"Mrs.John Cole." "Florence!" cried Rosa, starting up.
In flowed Florence: they both uttered a little squawk of delight, and went at each other like two little tigresses, and kissed in swift alternation with a singular ardor, drawing their crests back like snakes, and then darting them forward and inflicting what, to the male philosopher looking on, seemed hard kisses, violent kisses, rather than the tender ones to be expected from two tender creatures embracing each other.
"Darling," said Rosa, "I knew you would be the first.

Didn't I tell you so, Christopher ?--My husband--my darling Florry! Sit down, love, and tell me everything; he has just been looking out for a house.

Ah! you have got all that over long ago: she has been married six months.
Florry, you are handsomer than ever; and what a beautiful dress! Ah! London is the place.

Real Brussels, I declare," and she took hold of her friend's lace and gloated on it.
Christopher smiled good-naturedly, and said, "I dare say you ladies have a good deal to say to each other." "Oceans," said Rosa.
"I will go and hunt houses again." "There's a good husband," said Mrs.Cole, as soon as the door closed on him, "and such a fine man! Why, he must be six feet.

Mine is rather short.